Mossad
by Punisher Ops
Summary: Punisher conducts an S&R mission in al-Qaeda controlled Yemen to find old friend and missing Mossad agent Aleeza Himmel.


Mossad

Punisher

1

Sayhut airspace; Yemen

Via the darkness, Frank flew with the Yemeni smugglers with forged credentials in and through the coastal city of Sayhut. Despite having prudent doubts about flying through this town that was rumored to be governed by al-Qaeda sympathizers, the flight crew had assured Frank that their fake credentials would work out.

Regardless, Frank had geared up near the side door with a rocket launcher and a few extra rockets to go with it if it came to trouble.

Donning long-range night vision goggles, Frank studied the nocturnal sky ahead as they sought to clear the city in good time. If all went well, then they would land about thirty clicks further inland before Frank would travel by prearranged truck ride to Saywun – Himmel's last known location. When a mutual contact of both Himmel's and Frank's at Mossad had unofficially asked for his help in finding her, Frank had readily agreed. Her mission had been standard intel gathering on regional terror activity, nothing more.

She had been missing for nearly a month with no word.

That wasn't like her at all.

Frank was about to wrap up a sweep when his goggles spotted something. He zoomed in on the moving object. It was as black as the Yemeni night they were flying through. It was difficult to make out what it was, but several things were still conclusive – it moved with the speed of a chopper – and it was heading right for them...on an intercept course...

Frank focused on the object's ventral area...and spotted the blur of rotor motion. It was definitely a chopper of some kind...

A burst of light flashed from the helo's dorsal area and into his goggles' view...

There was only one thing it could be...

[Hard right, now!] he commanded the flight crew in Arabic.

[What?] the pilot, Farid, demanded.

[Do it!]

Farid and his copilot complied.

[Now dive.]

[But we're still over the city...]

[Now goddammit.]

Again, trusting Frank's judgment, the flight crew complied.

Frank reached into a bag and withdrew a handful of flares. He opened the side door...

[Castle, what are you doing?] Farid demanded again.

Frank ignited the flare, waited a few seconds, and then tossed it out behind the aircraft. A short moment later, it became clear to Farid and his copilot what was happening...

The chopper's missile struck the flare, sending a brilliant fireball into the night. The sound of thunder was audible even through the walls if the aircraft. The plane shook from the concussive outburst, but Farid remained in control.

[Climb.]

Farid and his copilot didn't complain now at all.

It was at that moment that Frank was grateful his goggles had been as advanced as they were to buy him precious time or else that missile would surely have hit them before he could have reacted. Not only that, but he also noted how advanced this chopper and its ordinance was. In fact, it was as advanced as the stealth choppers used during Operation Neptune Spear.

What was such advanced war tech doing in Yemen – and in al Qaeda hands? Was that what Aleeza's true mission had been to find out?

Frank would have to put such vital questions on hold as the enemy chopper closed in with stunning speed.

Farid noticed the speeding shadow of the chopper as it drew near. [We can't outrun them, Castle!]

Frank reached for the rocket launcher and mounted it atop his shoulder for firing. [You have to fly across his bow, Farid.]

[What?]

[It's our only chance...]

The chopper fired its minigun...

Rounds pierced the tail with ease along with the rear section. With its disintegration, the plane wobbled in the air and then began to swiftly slow and fall.

[I can't keep her up.]

Frank waited for his moment...

Farid banked the plane hard across to enter the chopper's flight path. It was so sudden and desperate an action that the chopper actually slowed in confusion... That's what Frank hoped for...

The chopper entered his sights...he fired.

The rocket exited the aircraft and sped for the chopper's flight canopy.

The enemy pilot, apparently skilled, spotted the rocket, and banked the chopper nimbly on its vertical access to only expose the side of the helo to Frank's rocket. Not only had Frank never seen a chopper evasively turn that fast, but even as the rocket struck the side of the powerful gunship...it did negligible damage. It was heavily armored.

It turned back in their direction...

"Oh, shit." Frank scrambled for his rear section seat to buckle in and assume a crash position. [Take her down now.]

[That won't be hard.]

The plane was already rapidly losing altitude from the rear gunfire it had taken.

[Crash-land her, Farid.]

The chopper had its minigun trained on them again...

[Allah, protect us,] Farid prayed, gripping the yoke hard to emergency land them.

Frank, long since agnostic, hoped it helped – because not much else was going to now.

The enemy aimed the powerful gun for the front of the craft this time and fired. Despite their swift fall to the earth, the rounds were much faster. Several hit the copilot in the central mass, piercing vital organs and killing him instantly. Another one, from an angle, hit Farid's arm above the elbow and severed it in two from there. As he felt his own warm blood spraying across his face and then seeing his separated arm lying across his lap, Farid panicked, and let go of the yoke.

The plane dropped to be nearly vertical to the city ground below.

"Son of a bitch."

Frank unstrapped himself and moved for the cockpit to aid the terrified pilot.

Near the cockpit, they hit a pocket of turbulence. Frank almost lost his footing, grabbed a handle grip in time to steady himself, but was then struck in the face by Farid's severed arm.

Frank threw the severed limb behind him, gripped the yoke, and pulled back as hard as he could.

Another round whizzed past him by his head, missing him by inches. Shrapnel from the near lethal round still hit Frank in the side of the face. He focused only on getting them down safely.

Spotting a long and open street ahead, Frank dove the plane for the final approach before making the crash landing. The chopper ceased pursuit and let them crash.

Frank pulled up at the last moment, dove for the floor behind the cockpit, covered his head, and went fetal.

The plane struck the city street and screeched as it slid at still a high rate of speed. Motorists and other travelers evaded as best they could to avoid the plane that had just dropped from the sky.

Upon hitting the ground, the jolt threw Frank up into the air to crash against the plane's ceiling before dropping him to the floor again. Nothing broke, but it was too early for hope yet.

The plane stopped.

Frank stood and returned to the cockpit and the panicked Farid. Looking at the copilot, Frank felt for a pulse; there was none. Drawing his knife, he cut the safety straps from the copilot's dead form and prepared them as a combat tourniquet for Farid's wound.

[This is going to hurt like a mother,] Frank said.

Farid gave a simple nod.

Frank held the handle portion of his knife before Farid's mouth. [Open.] Farid complied; Frank inserted the handle portion inside. [Bite down.] Farid did so.

They shared a look – and then Frank performed this bit of combat medicine...

Farid screamed and bit down hard into the knife handle, but Frank had the tourniquet secured with battle professional speed. He took the knife from Farid's mouth, cut the safety straps from him, and ambulated him from the cockpit.

They heard sirens.

[We gotta get out of here.]

[I can walk still.]

[Hell with that shit – we're running.]

Frank reached for several bags of gear, donned one, and tossed the other for Farid to do likewise. [You have to keep up.]

[I will, Castle. Don't worry.]

[I'm not.]

Frank drew a sidearm and took point. [Let's go...]

[Hello? Is anyone in here?] a Yemeni civilian said, entering through the ruined side hatchway.

Frank's muzzle was centimeters from the curious civilian's face. [Back away, now.] The civilian complied.

Frank cleared the area beyond, and ran for the nearest structure while the chopper circled overhead. The vehicular al-Qaeda controlled police were only a few blocks away now.

Looking behind him, he saw Farid struggle to keep up. He fell halfway to the target structure.

[Farid – haul ass!]

[I'm trying, Frank, I'm...]

A uniformed foot patrol police officer flanked Farid and fired two rounds into the ground near him. [Halt!]

He didn't appear to have spotted Frank yet.

Frank aimed for a grazing headshot on the cop before he was spotted or could kill Farid. When ready, he fired. His precise shot hit the cop and dropped him, but likely wouldn't prove fatal. Frank moved from cover to help Farid.

[I said you have to haul ass!] Frank growled, draping an arm of Farid's across his shoulder.

[I'm sorry, Frank...]

They entered the target structure – a small store. It appeared empty at present.

[What – what do we do?] Farid said, out of breath.

[We keep moving northwest as intended...] Frank stopped as blood from a shrapnel cut entered his eye. [Dammit.]

The police cars screeched to a halt.

[Come on, Farid.]

[I'll only slow you down, Frank, and you know it...]

Frank frowned. [What the hell...?]

[Find her, Frank – do the job.]

[Farid...]

Farid ran back outside to face the cops.

[Goddammit, Farid.]

Frank was tempted to both stay and leave. He stayed. He prepared to assist Farid again, when he heard Farid shout, [Allah is great!]

Peeking from the doorway, Frank saw Farid charge at the officers – actually rip one's gun away from him – and was about to fire on them when he was taken down by multiple shots. Farid wouldn't commit suicide but wouldn't let himself be captured alive either for interrogation.

He'd bought Frank some valuable time – with his life.

Frank didn't waste a second of it; he fled into the darkness, ready for anything, bandaging his shrapnel cut as he went.


End file.
